


Stakeout

by Kylie Lee (kylielee1000)



Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M, hot coffee, raccoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-19
Updated: 2008-09-19
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:24:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylielee1000/pseuds/Kylie%20Lee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs, DiNozzo, coffee, raccoon, and stakeout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stakeout

**Author's Note:**

> For Gigi and oceana, because really, this is all their fault. Originally posted January 16, 2005. Beta: thegrrrl ("who are these people?") and Gigi Sinclair.

DiNozzo clicked his cell shut and tossed it on the dash, disgusted. It just figured. He'd had a date with a hot girl, and he'd had to cancel because he had to work. When he'd said something about rescheduling, he'd found himself talking to dead air.

"How'd she take it?" Gibbs asked.

"Not well," DiNozzo said. "She hung up on me."

"Guess she's not used to being kept waiting." Gibbs continued to stare out the windshield, sipping coffee. He'd just replenished his cup from a Thermos.

"Dammit!" DiNozzo slapped the dash. She was an exotic dancer he'd met in a strip club, and she did not date the patrons. Getting her number had been the coup of the century—well, the month, anyway. "She's, like, perfect." He sketched the air. "Tits out to here, legs that go on forever, this gorgeous dark hair—and she really knows how to wrap a pole."

"What?" Gibbs said, startled.

That had apparently come out wrong. "She's a dancer," DiNozzo clarified. "Pole dancing." He'd been thinking about her legs all night—her legs walking on sexy high heels, her legs going all the way up to her ass when she bent over, her legs when she slipped her dress off—

"Yeah, I think I liked the other image better." Gibbs leaned forward and brought the binoculars up to his eyes, suddenly intent.

"What?" DiNozzo said, pulling his mind away from his delightful fantasy. "What? Do you see his car? Is he moving?" That wasn't part of the plan.

"You know he's not." Gibbs took his own cell phone out of his pocket and waved it at DiNozzo. "McGee will call when the car starts moving and we know the GPS is online."

"Stakeouts," DiNozzo said. "Man, gotta love my job. So what're you looking at?"

"I thought I saw something move. You want to see? Here."

DiNozzo accepted the proffered binoculars. He set them to his eyes, only to see only fuzziness. He sighed and ostentatiously turned the focus as he aimed the binoculars at approximately where Gibbs had been looking, until dark trees, eerily lit by the suddenly huge moon, leapt into focus. A second later, he caught movement. "Raccoon," he said, disappointed. He handed the binoculars back. "Now, why is it we aren't going home to get some sleep?"

"Because we're two hours out of town, DiNozzo."

"A hotel, then."

"Cars are cheaper."

"Yes, let's save the federal government some money. Because they spend it so wisely."

"I just wanted to spend some quality time with you. We so rarely get to talk like this."

"Touching, Gibbs. Touching."

Gibbs smiled and lifted the binoculars to his eyes again. "You need your own binoculars. Now the focus is all out of whack."

DiNozzo chose not to respond to that. He drummed his hands on the dash, then reached for the phone. "I'll check in with Kate, see what's what."

"Don't bother," Gibbs said, and DiNozzo, thwarted, threw the phone back down, saying, "See, I'm supposed to be taking a beautiful woman out to dinner, and instead I'm stuck in a car with an old guy with bad eyesight. No offense."

"None taken. And I'm an old guy with bad eyesight who's your boss, DiNozzo." Gibbs raised his paper coffee cup in salute just as something heavy hit the roof of the car with a loud thud.

"Shit!" DiNozzo said as Gibbs, startled, dumped his coffee into DiNozzo's lap. Luckily, the coffee wasn't scalding hot, but it was hot enough to hurt. DiNozzo wiped his legs and pulled up on his fly. Too late. The coffee had soaked his briefs already, and a certain tender part of his anatomy was complaining. "Damn it! What was that?" He shook coffee off his fingers.

Gibbs, neck craned, peered out of the windshield, trying to see the top of the car. "Flashlight," he ordered, and DiNozzo fished around, found it, and handed it over. Gibbs clicked it on and pointed it out the window. "Raccoon," Gibbs said, which DiNozzo could see for himself, because the animal jumped down off the roof onto the hood and peered in at them, seemingly unafraid of the beam of light shining into its eyes.

"God, it's big," DiNozzo said. The hot coffee had already started to cool, making his legs clammy. "Since we're not under attack, maybe I could get some napkins?"

Instead of responding—he clearly had no idea how uncomfortable a lapful of coffee was, DiNozzo thought resentfully—Gibbs clicked off the flashlight. The raccoon became a black shadow. DiNozzo thought the raccoon must be pretty heavy, because when it moved, the car shifted under its weight. "He's going to scratch the paint," Gibbs said.

"You should honk and scare him."

"I can't honk. We're on stakeout."

"We're on stakeout three miles from the perp. A little honk would be okay."

"DiNozzo, I am not honking."

"Okay, then, let's make noise. Is that better than honking?"

"What kind of noise?"

"Noise like this." DiNozzo paused for dramatic effect, then banged his hands on the dash and bounced up and down to make the car rock. "Hey! Beat it!" he yelled. "Yes, you, you raccoon! We're busy here! Git!"

"Shut up, DiNozzo!" Gibbs yelled over DiNozzo, and DiNozzo shut up. To DiNozzo's delight, the raccoon shuffled to the edge of the car and jumped off.

"Well, it worked," DiNozzo said. "Napkins?"

Gibbs set his now-empty coffee cup into a cup holder. "They were in the McDonald's bag," he said. "Where's the McDonald's bag?"

DiNozzo pulled at the wet fabric of his pants. "I stuck it outside," he said.

"You littered?"

The lid of Gibbs's cup had fallen off. DiNozzo flicked it onto the floor. "I was going to pick it up before we left. The smell of the fries congealing was getting to me."

"Fries?"

"The fries that didn't have any salt on them," DiNozzo reminded Gibbs. They'd been too icky to eat, even with lots of ketchup.

"Well, no wonder we have raccoons," Gibbs said. "You're giving them a free dinner. You want those napkins? Be my guest."

DiNozzo looked out the passenger-side window. The raccoon, dark, heavy body weaving, was messing with the white paper bag. As he watched, another raccoon meandered up. The place was lousy with them. "Too late," he sighed. "Hey, isn't there a rag or something in the back seat?"

"Oh, yeah." Gibbs pulled himself onto his knees and reached into the rear.

"The coffee's all puddled, and now it's getting cold."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch." Gibbs settled back into his seat, white rag flashing pale in the dark, as DiNozzo undid his pants. "Got it. What are you doing?"

"Stripping down. I'm wet." DiNozzo lifted his ass and pulled his pants down. He kicked off his shoes and, awkwardly in the small space, managed to pull his pants off. "Ah, hell. They're sticking to my legs."

"Here. Hold still."

DiNozzo balled up his pants and let Gibbs dab at his crotch and thighs. But the thought of the beautiful exotic dancer with the legs must have affected him more than he thought, because he started to get hard. It was the stimulation of the stupid wiping, DiNozzo thought frantically, on top of his pondering of his postdinner plans. "Gibbs—" he said, just as Gibbs said, "Tony, for god's sake, quit moving," and DiNozzo brought up his hand holding the wet pants, whapping Gibbs in the face, and DiNozzo said, "Shit, Gibbs, sorry," and Gibbs, probably reflexively, grabbed at DiNozzo's cock, which promptly went from perky to hard.

They both froze, Gibbs's hand on DiNozzo's cock. DiNozzo closed his eyes and thought about raccoons, french fries, and cell phones—anything he could think of that had nothing to do with his boss's hand on his dick and how good that felt, but his dick would have none of it. Instead, it gave a little leap, and then another one, and a second later, Gibbs's hand had burrowed inside his cold, wet briefs and encircled his cock.

"Huh," Gibbs said. "I didn't really expect that."

"Shit," DiNozzo said, because Gibbs's hand had started to move. "I think—you need to—this isn't good." That wasn't true. It was good. It was very good, especially when Gibbs ran his thumb over the slit at the tip of his cock. His cock stood like a flagpole, sticking up out of the hole in his briefs. His pants fell from his hand because he suddenly couldn't hold onto them anymore. "You should—um—"

"I should?" Gibbs sounded amused.

He rubbed his hand up and down DiNozzo's cock, squeezing hard, and DiNozzo tried to wrench his mind back from the place it was going, the place that was telling him to lie back and let Gibbs give him a hand job, because after all, Gibbs was the boss, and if he wanted to jack DiNozzo off, who was DiNozzo to complain? Especially when Gibbs squeezed right under the cap of his dick, sending waves of pleasure through his body. No. He could not complain. Complaining would be pointless and stupid.

"You should," DiNozzo agreed. He had forgotten what they were talking about.

"Anything I should know about you, Tony?"

DiNozzo tried not to moan as Gibbs a circular thing with his hand. His boss had barely been touching him for thirty seconds, but he had good technique. "What?" he said.

"The clap? Herpes? AIDS?"

What the hell? DiNozzo's mind cleared. "No," he managed. "I'm clean. And you should—" He'd been about to say, "You should stop right now," but instead he said, "Oh, fuck," because Gibbs leaned over and put his mouth on his dick, and really, they shouldn't stop now, because now it was just too late. Gibbs sucked in almost all of DiNozzo's cock, and he'd thought the coffee had been warm, but that was nothing compared to Gibbs's hot, tight mouth, with the tongue sliding along the underside and all the way up and off.

"Me too," Gibbs said.

"Good to know," DiNozzo said as Gibbs enveloped him again. "Very—good. Very, very good. To know that." He put his hand on Gibbs's shoulder as Gibbs started in on him, laid his head back on the seat's headrest, and let Gibbs do his thing.

Gibbs increased the pressure of his mouth, and DiNozzo took the white rag from him so Gibbs could add in his hands, and that was very good, with the sucking and the hands squeezing up, and then the mouth coming down again. DiNozzo watched Gibbs's head dip and rise. Even though it was dark, he could make out Gibbs's mouth, and seeing that mouth travel up and down his own thick cock was a rush. Usually he talked when someone went down on him, telling his partner what he wanted, letting his partner know how good it felt and just being generally encouraging, but somehow, he couldn't say anything like that to Gibbs, and anyway, he didn't need to, because Gibbs really knew what he was doing, with the teeth and the tongue, and oh god, with the pressure right there, right there, but he felt himself being carried away and then he couldn't make himself shut up.

"That's it, Gibbs," DiNozzo said as he felt himself getting close. "Just like that. Just like that."

He said more things along those lines, and Gibbs sped up, and shit, he was going to lose it, he was going to lose it in his boss's mouth, and he should stop because coming in your boss's mouth was incredibly stupid, even he knew that, but he couldn't stop himself, just like he couldn't stop the words, and anyway, Gibbs wanted him to come, or he wouldn't be doing this, he wouldn't be sucking him, he wouldn't be licking his cock like this and making that noise in the back of his throat, that little moaning noise.

"Harder," he said incoherently, even though the pressure was perfect, fucking perfect. "I'm—oh, god, oh, god," and his hand clenched on Gibbs's shoulder and he came. Gibbs's mouth didn't stop moving, and that was just right, with the tongue and the pleasure slamming through him, and then he had to put a hand up to shield himself from his own come because Gibbs had let him go, his tongue pushing hard at the base of his cock, Gibbs's tongue feeling DiNozzo come, and he panted wildly as blood rushed in his ears because the rush of coming was far too intense to bear, and he collapsed back in his seat. His dick gave a few more tiny squeezes. Gibbs licked his cock, tongue gentle now, and DiNozzo touched the nape of Gibbs's neck. Warm come was sticky on his hand. DiNozzo wiped it off with the white cloth he was somehow holding.

"Shit, Gibbs," he said when he knew his voice would come out correctly. "What was that about?"

"Making you come," Gibbs said, pushing himself back into the driver's side seat. He wiped his mouth.

"You always do this on stakeout? You do this with Kate? Or McGee?"

"Makes the time go by faster," Gibbs said, which, DiNozzo noticed, didn't really answer the question.

DiNozzo took in a last, shuddering breath. His cock was at half-mast, and he tucked it inside his sopping briefs. He glanced over at Gibbs and remembered Gibbs's harsh breathing, the noises he had made. Gibbs had gotten off on sucking him. He knew what he had to do now, and he found that he didn't mind. He didn't mind at all. When he put his hand in Gibbs's lap and felt how hard he was, he felt anticipation.

It had been a while, but some things, you never forget: the faint sound of a zipper, the shifting in the seat, the rustle of clothing being pulled down, the heavy breathing, the hitch in the breath when DiNozzo bent over to return the favor, and then the feel of a hard dick in his mouth, the taste faintly musky, the skin sliding a little over the steel underneath, the soft head with its little slick of come at the tip. Gibbs wasn't a talker. Instead, he wove his fingers into DiNozzo's hair and relaxed back into the driver's seat. DiNozzo took him in deep, Gibbs's pubic hair tickling his nose, and lost himself in the scent of an aroused Gibbs, a Gibbs so hot that his fingers clenched when DiNozzo hit a particularly sensitive spot. He was definitely doing something right because Gibbs started breathing hard, and his cock got hotter and tastier. DiNozzo barely noticed the uncomfortableness of his position, twisted halfway over so he could get his face in Gibbs's lap, because Gibbs's dick was huge and hard and throbbing, with all kinds of interesting twists and turns that his tongue needed to explore. Then Gibbs's hands grabbed either side of DiNozzo's head and he began to thrust. DiNozzo held the base of Gibbs's penis, steadying it, as Gibbs fucked his mouth. Gibbs started moaning. DiNozzo caught his rhythm and added in some tongue, and that did the trick, because Gibbs said, "Fuck," shoved DiNozzo's head back, and came all over DiNozzo's face.

DiNozzo shut his eyes reflexively. Warmth spattered his face, the force of it surprising him. He opened his eyes cautiously when Gibbs seemed to be done. Gibbs pulled DiNozzo's head up so he could see what he'd done.

"Man, that's a sight," Gibbs said, using his thumb to wipe at some come. Then he leaned down and kissed DiNozzo on the mouth. Somehow, the kiss was more intimate than the sucking off had been. Gibbs tasted like coffee mixed with come. It struck DiNozzo that he had probably tasted the same.

Anything either of them might have said was cut off by the sudden ringing of Gibbs's phone. DiNozzo sank back into his seat and found the rag, which had fallen to the floor. He wiped his face as Gibbs said, "Yeah. Okay. We'll wait for five and then head out. Give me a ring if he gets off the highway. Thanks." He clicked the phone shut. "We're ready to roll. You should put your pants back on."

"Yes, I'll do that," DiNozzo said, resisting the urge to say, "Same to you."

They didn't say anything as they got ready to go. Gibbs got the discarded McDonald's bag, now ripped to shreds and free of french fries, thanks to the raccoons, and stuck it in the back seat while DiNozzo stepped out to put his pants back on. They were still cold and damp.

"Ready?" Gibbs said as DiNozzo pulled his seat belt on.

"You know me. Always ready." DiNozzo clicked the belt shut.

Gibbs flicked the headlights on. "You think about her? That stripper with the legs?" he asked.

"Exotic dancer, not stripper," DiNozzo said automatically. "And no. I didn't. I was thinking about you, boss."

"Sweet. That's sweet," Gibbs said, clearly not believing him.

"Let's go already," DiNozzo said, putting finality into his voice because it was true and because he didn't want to talk about it, and Gibbs put the car in gear.


End file.
